


cicada season

by orphan_account



Category: NCT, WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, and yeah that's pretty much it, cicadas are in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:30:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Yangyang presses a finger to his lips. “Do you hear them?”“Who?”“The cicadas.” Yangyang presses kisses to his shoulder, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose. He whispers into the imaginary space between their faces, breath tickling his lips. “Don’t worry. They can keep a secret.”





	cicada season

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell that I write when I'm procrastinating hahahaha
> 
> also why were cicadas on my mind all day lmao

The drilling beat of the introverted insect is the first thing Lucas notices on the first day of summer and last day of school.

 

The second thing is Liu Yangyang hanging upside down on the monkey bars in the neighborhood park, book pressed close to his face.

 

The summer sun has taken center stage and cicadas are shouting everywhere. Useless papers weigh down his backpack.

 

“Yangyang,” He says above the roar of the clicking. “The hell are you doing up there?”

 

The younger boy brings the book close to his chest and flips off in one swift motion. “It’s cicada season, Lucas. Natural music.”

 

“It’s too loud,” Lucas complains. “I can barely hear myself think.”

 

Yangyang moves closer, sunlight blazing a path behind him. The clicking is louder now, almost unbearable in his ears. He pushes Lucas back onto the sidewalk, resuming the journey home.

 

“You’re not thinking about the right stuff, Lucas.” He looks directly into his eyes, unblinkingly. “ _You’re_ thinking too loudly.”

 

///

 

Cicadas emerge every seventeen years after reaching full adulthood. They enter the world all at once, the creaking of their bodies a natural soundtrack.

 

Lucas is seventeen years old when Yangyang pounds on his back door on the first night of summer, taunting grin in place.

 

“It’s late,” Lucas mumbles through drowsiness.

 

“How many times have you driven your bike?”

 

Lucas glances back at his garage where his precious, gorgeous, _expensive_ bike is hiding. He crosses his arms. “Not happening.”

 

Yangyang cocks his head to the side, brown mop of hair falling into his face. There’s a constellation behind his head but Lucas can’t make it out. “Oh, really?” He tugs a keyring from his pocket. “Guess whose mom gave this to me a few hours ago?”

 

Lucas reaches for the keys, but Yangyang leans backwards, effectively keeping them out of reach. “For fifteen minutes. Please?”

 

Denial forms in his throat before fizzling out. He can’t deny a face like that. “Let me grab my jacket and some shoes.”

  


The ride around the city does not actually take fifteen minutes, but lasts all night, the two stopping periodically to observe the moon at different locations. When they go back to Lucas’s house it is early morning, and a lone cicada sits on his doorstep, trilling a fluttering noise.

 

Yangyang leans down until he is eye to eye with the insect. “Beautiful.”

 

Lucas catches onto hair ruined by a helmet and perfectly round eyes alight in wonder. “Hm,” He hums. “You’re right.”

 

///

 

“You should stop throwing parties,” Lucas advises to Hendery as they make their way through the throng of bodies. “You know how out of control they get.”

 

Hendery glances back at him and smirks. “That’s half the fun, really.”

 

Lucas laughs in disbelief. “You’re insane.”

 

Hendery calls back, “It’s summer. Let’s try to loosen up, yeah?”

 

Somehow, Lucas and parties don’t exactly mesh. He blames his DNA for making him sociable and parties his worst enemy. He thought it was kind of cruel.

 

He escapes the sweaty landscape of Hendery’s offensively large house and onto the patio. There’s no one out here yet, just the constant, gentle hum of the cicadas in the trees.

 

A head bobs up from the pool.

 

“Yangyang?”

 

“Lucas!” He yells. “Come in!”

 

Lucas shakes his head. It’s getting later and colder. Catching a cold in the summer doesn’t seem like fun. Besides-

 

“Stop fucking thinking,” Yangyang whines. “Just jump in. It’s a heated pool, anyway.”

 

Lucas peels back his clothes and enters the pool, water warming his shaking nerves. He tries to ignore the moonlight dancing across Yangyang’s face, the brightness of bare skin in the dark.

 

“Why are you so afraid of me?” He whispers. There’s a frown on his face.

 

Lucas shakes his head. He’s not afraid. Mesmerized, maybe. Enchanted, definitely. The only way his amazement manifests is through his unreliable nerves, through words extinguished on his tongue, actions that die out on his fingertips.

 

Yangyang brings a hand to his shoulder and rubs circles into his skin. “ _Relax._ I’m not going to murder you.”

 

“I mean, I didn’t think you were,” Lucas laughs.

 

“Ah, imagine the headline: ‘High school student murders the boy of his dreams at a lame party. Full story tonight at six.’”

 

“Hendery will take offense to the lame party bit.”

 

“Well I’m _certainly_ not afraid of him.”

 

Lucas laughs again, voice soaring higher than the clicking. Yangyang laughs too and brushes the hair out of his eyes.

 

“Would you bolt if I kissed you?”

 

Lucas looks back at the patio door. He can see people moving around through the glass pane of the door.

 

“We’re still in public,” He reminds him. “People talk.”

 

Yangyang presses a finger to his lips. “Do you hear them?”

 

“Who?”

 

“The cicadas.” Yangyang presses kisses to his shoulder, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose. He whispers into the imaginary space between their faces, breath tickling his lips. “Don’t worry. They can keep a secret.”

 

///

 

“We’re bad at baking,” Lucas declares as he dumps another ruined batch of cookies into the trash can. They’re hardly recognizable.

 

“It’s a learning curve,” Yangyang says. He’s flipping through his mother’s cookbook again, looking for another recipe. One that’s more their speed. “I used to be bad at piano but look at me now.”

 

He’s referring to the dozens of accolades he receives for his talent at playing the instrument. Lucas doesn’t think the two are comparable.

 

He sighs and wraps an arm around his waist. “I’m sick of baking. Why can’t we just buy something?”

 

Yangyang leans away from Lucas, intent on finding another recipe. “It’s Xiaojun’s birthday. I want to make something for him.”

 

“Lying exists.” Yangyang gives him a blank look. Lucas pouts.

 

“Don’t be cute,” His boyfriend reprimands. “It’s not your thing.”

 

“It is _so_ my thing.”

 

Yangyang shuts the book and twists around in his arms. “I’m way cuter than you.”

 

“Yeah? Prove it.”

 

Yangyang contorts his face into a sickeningly cute one, eyelashes moving rapidly. “Aren’t I cute?” He sings out.

 

Lucas lets go of him and cringes. “Oh my God.”

 

Yangyang drops the expression and winces. “Okay, fine. Neither of us are cute.” He holds the book up. “But both of us can bake!”

 

Lucas groans. So close.

  
  


 

 

Xiaojun looks from the blob-shaped cookies to Yangyang and back again. “Why didn’t you just buy cookies from the store?”

 

Lucas remains silent. It’s a defeat as much as a win.

 

Yangyang shoves the tupperware closer to their friend. “They taste amazing.”

 

Xiaojun tucks the container under his arm. He looks unconvinced. “Oh, I bet.”

 

Xiaojun’s backyard has an enormous fire pit, outdoor couches lining the space. Lucas leans his head onto Yangyang’s shoulder, the warmth of the fire and content feeling surging through his blood. Yangyang presses a kiss to his forehead. Lucas jumps as if he’s been electrocuted.

 

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Yangyang says, confused. “Too much onion on my burger or something? Are my lips chapped?”

 

Lucas glances around at their small group of friends, worried that they saw, but they’re all absorbed in their own conversations.

 

‘Oh,” Yangyang says in realization. “That.” He tosses the blanket aside. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

 

“Yangyang wait,” Lucas calls as he follows him into the house.

 

“Wait for what, Lucas? It’s been a _month_.” His voice catches on the letters, despair dangling from the syllables.

 

Lucas reaches out. He pulls back when Yangyang leans away, disgusted.

 

Yangyang looks at the laces of his perfectly clean high tops. “Is it because you’re dating a boy?”

“Of course not.”

 

“Is it because you’re dating _me_?”

 

Lucas looks up at that, heart breaking, over and over again. No words come out.

 

Yangyang laughs bitterly at the silence crawling on their skin. “All you do is think. And it’s never about the stuff that matters.”

 

He storms out, front door slamming.

  


 

When Xiaojun hands back the empty container at the end of night, the cicadas are screaming, louder than Lucas has ever heard. It almost sounds like crying.

 

///

 

The sound of the cicadas doesn’t let up for the next week. It gets louder each day, ear splintering noise. Lucas is trying not to think as much.

 

///

 

Lucas finds Yangyang hanging upside down from the monkey bars again. He’s listening to music this time, foregoing the natural music of the cicadas.

 

“Yangyang!” He yells over the noise.

 

The boy opens one eye slowly. He flips down just as he did the first time. He pockets his phone. “Is there something you need?”

 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Lucas starts.

 

Yangyang scoffs. “I sure as hell hope not.”

 

“You read at least two books a day. You think cicadas make pretty noises. You convince me to go swimming at house parties. We go moon hunting on my bike.” The words are free falling this time. “You play piano like a prodigy. You bake when you’re shitty at it. And for some God-forsaken reason, I’m the guy of your dreams.”

 

“And?”

 

Lucas steps closer. “And I’m afraid that everyone else will see I don’t deserve you. And then I’ll have to face reality.”

 

Yangyang flicks his forehead. “You idiot. You have such a big head and you never use it for anything good.”

 

The cicadas have reached a low hum.

 

He presses his face into Lucas’s chest. “You gotta stop thinking. It’s not worth anything.”

 

Lucas tugs him closer and spots a cicada resting on the monkey bars. It clicks softly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> congrats! you read until the end! thanks for putting up with my nonsense
> 
> EDIT: hi so this'll be the last fic I'm posting I'm pretty sure!! I plan to b e really busy in the upcoming months and it doesn't look like it'll slow down after that!! thank you reading this and any other of my works and please, please keep supporting nct and wayv!!


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